Puzzle
by LivTC
Summary: High School AU; Basically a collection of separate Davekat stories that still fit together. Because reasons.
1. Flustered

**AN: So. This used to be in Second Person, per the norm for Homestuck. A nice reviewer warned me that Second Person is against Fanfiction's rules (I think this rule should be ignored with Homestuck, as it's truer to the story to write in 2nd, but hey, bitter? Me? Never), but I didn't even get 24 hours to fix it before the story was reported and taken down.**

**With that, here you go, a reposted Homestuck story originally written in Second person that now reads terribly in First:**

**Be Karkat Vantas**

I was gonna hit something. If it weren't for the pile of books in my hands, I totally would've been hitting something.

I hated three things at the moment:

1.) School. Who the hell thought cramming a bunch of teenagers into one place was a good idea? I understood the importance of education; hell, I _liked_ learning, but this was ridiculous. Everyone around me was some combination of hungry, tired, and horny, and they grated on my nerves as if I were the cheese and the student body was the sharp, metal object.

The horny ones were the worst. Not that they were hitting on _me, _or anything, but still, a person can only witness so many sloppy makeouts before throwing up. Or worse: getting turned on, too.

**Karkat: Transition**

2.) Me. That thing I wanted to hit if not for my books? It was me. I was an imbecile of the lowest intelligence, an idiot of the highest degree. What was wrong with me? I was turning into one of those dumb jocks from John's terribly cliche movies, sans all the hot chicks hanging around.

Not that I was into chicks. Another reason to hate myself, actually. I just _had_ to be gay, huh? I was playing the school game on the highest difficulty. Life was hard as a gay teenager, and no one understood.

I was just lucky no one had found out yet. But I know, someday, someone is bound to notice me staring in the locker rooms. Not that I stare much. Just at one annoyingly choice ass.

3.) Dave Strider, owner of said choice ass. I'd never wanted to hit and then molest someone as much as I wanted to hit and then molest Dave Strider. Every time I saw him, I had to resist the urge to jump on him like a spider monkey, alternating between punching and kissing him. I wanted to knock those stupid shades off his face. What the hell was he hiding under there? How could I be so attracted to a kid I hadn't even fully seen?

It didn't matter much, anyway. Strider had no idea who I was. I'd shared at least one class with him every semester since six grade. Five years, and I still had to re-introduce myself every fucking time there was a group project. Five years of growling out my name for him, and he still asked. I hated when he asked. I always had to feign disgust to cover up for how hurt I was.

Uh.

I mean -

Da- Strider had never hurt my feelings. Of course not.

Damn it.

**Be Dave Strider**

I loved life. Honestly, it could not have be any better. I was at school, so I wasn't surrounded by any of Bro's fucking smuppets, and I'd just come out to my best friend. John took it pretty well for a straight guy who thought he was being hit on, though he never was able to finish that math problem.

I wonder if there are any other gay kids in the school. There's Rose and her girlfriend of course, but as chicks, they don't count. That Eridan kid was pretty flamboyant, though he wasn't really my type. He was a bit of a genocidal prick, and I was _sure_ he crossdressed. I didn't have a problem with it, but I wasn't into mini-skirts, regardless of whether or not the person wearing them had a dick. Either way, Eridan seemed to have a thing for some computer nerd.

That was the one problem with being gay: no one else was. So much candy, all of it uneatable. I would take all the judgement in the world if it meant I could have more options for desert.

There was one guy in particular I wish were an option. He didn't come off to me as gay, but of course, _I _wasn't the standard definition, either. Man, he was cute. Especially when he was angry, and Jesus, did it piss him off when I "forgot" his name.

Oh, look!

**Be Karkat**

Speak of the devil.

Stop staring, man. I think he's looking back, but it's hard to tell with those shades, so _just look down_. Resist temptation. You can do it.

**Karkat: Fucking look down, already**.

I look down, which turns out to be a bad idea. I walk straight into some familiar brunette chick, sending my books flying. As the fuckass walks off, yelling at me to watch where I'm going, I drop to your knees in an attempt to quickly gather my shit back up.

I hope Strider didn't see that.

**Be Dave**

**Dave: See that**

Oh, I saw that.

Half of me wants to go tell Vriska off for being a dumb ass, but the rest of me wants to go help.

**Dave: Go help**

I don't need to be told twice. I quickly walk the ten feet over and drop down to the floor. I start grabbing random papers and shoving them random places, caring more about time than accuracy.

I can feel the kid next to you tense up.

A bit nervously, I say, "Hi, Karkat."

He completely freezes at this, which pisses me off a bit. He's not looking at me, and his hair is covering his face. To fix this problem, I reach over and put two fingers under his jaw. I make him look at me, and holy shit -

**Be Karkat**

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

HOLY SHIT.

Strider knows my name.

Dave fucking Strider knows my name, is touching me, is actually smiling, and Jesus Christ, that bastard, why is he not closer to me.

**Be Dave**

- he's even cuter when he's flustered.


	2. Shopping

**_"It was supposed to be a one-shot," I whispered before I making my return to the keyboard._**

* * *

**Be Karkat Vantas**

I'd been dating Dave Strider for about two weeks now, though we hadn't really been on a proper date. We'd been out plenty of times, yeah, but never to the movies or to dinner like in my rom-coms. I was fucking pissed about this. Everything Dave fucking Strider did still made me want to introduce his face to a sledgehammer, and yet, here we were, on our fifth "outing."

"Target, Strider?" I growl as he turns off the engine, crossing my arms.

He chuckles. I'd gotten used to that sound. After all, Dave seemed to find me hilarious, and chuckled at almost everything I did. Especially when I was pissed off, or at a loss for words.

"Problem, Vantas?" he returns, smirk apparent in his voice. I can't see it, though; I refuse to look at him, instead settling for the giant red letters on the side of the brick building.

I respond, "Oh no, of course not. I fucking love shopping for mundane items with you like a -"

"Old married couple?" he interrupts.

I whip my head around to glare at him, but I know I'm blushing. It doesn't help that he's smiling, either. Strider has attractive, kissable lips. I haven't kissed him yet, though. I refuse to have my first kiss in school, or in the super market, or in his dumb truck. I won't do it.

I also had never kissed anyone and I knew he had and he was probably awesome at it and what if I was a bad kisser and then he broke up with me then and Jesus Christ my chest hurt.

"No," I finally snap back. "Shut up."

He's still smirking when he gets out of the car. I get out, too, wondering why I put myself through this torture when Dave suddenly wraps his calloused hand around my small ones.

"You have girl hands," he notes, incredibly pleased. "Really soft."

I try to pull away, frustrated, but he won't let me.

"Why the hell is that a good thing?" I growl, insecurity on the tip of my tongue. "You're gay aren't you? Don't you like _men_?"

He starts laughing like a retarded hyena high on Nitrous Oxide.

What? I was good at science. Shut up.

Strider responds, "Liking dick doesn't mean I can't like feminine features, Karkitty."

I punch him in the arm with my free hand as we reach the automatic doors. If I even stopped blushing from before, my cheeks are red again from his bluntness.

The smell of the over-buttered popcorn they for some reason sell at Target hits my nose as Dave grabs a cart.

We never use a cart. As unemployed high school students, we never have enough money to actually fill a cart. I narrow my eyes at my boyfriend, incredibly suspicious.

He just smirks.

Grabbing my hand again, he starts rolling the annoyingly red cart past the dumb $1 section and deeper into the store. He doesn't say a word until you get to the food section, but he was laughing at me when we passed both the women's and men's underwear.

"Get in the cart," he demands in the middle of the dairy aisle, completely serious and unsmiling.

I consider throwing a fit. I think about screaming and whining and slamming my fists on the floor, but I decide not to. I know that will just give my sadistic boyfriend some weird pleasure, and I'm pretty sure he's bluffing.

**Karkat: Call his bluff**

I do. Returning his completely serious, unsmiling expression, I climb into the obnoxiously colored cart, not caring about the people around us. I'm sure his eyes widen in surprise, but his shitty "ironic" glasses block them from view.

After a full minute of staring at each other, I demand from my cross-legged position in the cart, "Push me."

He grins an un-aggravating grin. I like this grin. This grin doesn't make me want to punch all his teeth out.

**Be Dave Strider**

The only thing that could make this better was some AJ. My terribly, adorably whiny boyfriend had just complied with one of my dumbass requests, and even added his own, without a temper tantrum. I wasn't expecting this, but I'm immensely pleased.

My boyfriend is the _best_.

I grab the handle of the cart and set off, slowly at first, like a normal shopper. Then, once we're free of all the other customers and occasional worker, I start running.

I laugh as Karkat grabs the sides of the cart, screaming.

**Be Karkat**

WHAT THE FUCK?!

"DAVE, STOP THE CART, YOU GODDAMN FUCK-WITTED, CAMEL-TOED, SHIT-BREATHING, DISFIGURED DICKNOSE!"

Unfortunately, my boyfriend just laughs in return as the cart skids to a stop, a foot away from a cliche pyramid of soup cans. I'm about to take a deep breath when he turns the cart and sends us flying down the next isle.

"YOU MOLDY PILLOW HUMPER, STOP THE MOTHERFUCKING CART!"

**Be Dave **

I _really_ like your boyfriend when he's angry. The other inhabitants of Target? Not so much.

"Sir!" a heavy, middle-aged woman calls after us.

Huffing in frustration, I slowly skid us to a stop. I turn around and rhetorically ask, annoyed, "Can't two gay men frolic around in a nasty ass Target without being judged by the help?"

"Sir," she growls back, pointing at the mess behind her. "You've knocked over just about everything you've passed, and your friend's screaming is making the little children cry."

"_Boy_friend," I correct.

She rolls her eyes, telling me, "Well, it's time for you and your _boyfriend_ to leave the store."

As I help my frozen Karkitty out of the cart, I hear her mutter, "Gays will be the downfall of good society, I'm sure of it."

Due to my height, Karkat is about a foot off the ground when he hears that, and he goes batshit-crazy. Squirming around in my arms like an unhappy cat, my boyfriend starts screaming, "You mentally deficient, homophobic dickface!"

I quickly set him down, and he marches right up to the taller employee. "Listen, Kathy," he says reading her name-tag, "I don't _care_ that we fucked your place up, you have absolutely _NO RIGHT_ to say that, YOU ABOMINABLE BOTTOM-FEEDER! May you feel the pain you deserve and your cancer be terminal!"

I grab my boyfriend and start to drag him away, trying to push through the crowd that's formed. Karkat gives one last glare at the woman, pointing, as he growls, "Get donkey punched."

**Be Karkat**

**Karkat: Skip to the part where you're back in the car**

But I knocked over the cabbage stand like a badass on the way out!

**Karkat: Do it**

Fine.

After closing the door behind him, Dave huffs, "Wow."

I'm sure I just made a fool of myself. I squirmed around in my boyfriend of two weeks arms like a fucking toddler, and then yelled at a lady in what could only be classified as an over reaction.

"That was awesome," Dave says instead of telling me off for being a retard.

I blush, surprised, and look down to my fumbling hands.

He smirks. "Not a fan of cart rides, though, huh?"

I blush harder. "Well, I mean, you just surprised-"

He interrupts me by placing his hand lightly on the back of my neck, making me jump and look up at him and Holy Mother of Proximity was he close.

His surprisingly soft lips meet my chapped ones, and at first, I'm too stunned to react. He backs off, probably due to my lack of response, and I quickly recapture his lips with mine.

I am Karkat Vantas, and getting kicked out of Target _totally_ counts as a real date.

* * *

**AN: This was also originally written in Second Person, so I'll blame any awkwardness on that again. The next chapter (yes, I guess there will be more) will be in First and past tense and better, I swear.**


	3. Snow

**AN: As mentioned in the last Author's Note, this chapter is written a bit differently.**

* * *

**Be Karkat Vantas**

I was a very pissed off Karkat Vantas that had not seen his boyfriend in almost two weeks, and I was planning on fixing that.

It'd snowed all throughout the night and into the morning, the first snow of December. There were seven or eight inches of the stuff on the ground, which made me want to throw up. I hated the snow. I hated cold, wet things, and didn't understand how anyone could like winter. Much to my chagrin, my boyfriend was one of the dumbasses who liked the season and the snow and skiing and all that "fun" shit.

Today, I was going to put myself through hell just to make him happy.

After swearing about my lack of a car, even a shitty one, I began to trudge across the neighborhood to Strider's house. I'd never really been to the Striders' before, but I knew which one it was since Dave would always have to stop back there for something.

About halfway through my trek, I came across John Egbert shoveling his driveway. "Hi, Karkat!" he greeted excitedly, toothy grin spread across his face as he waved.

I gave some half-assed, grumpy greeting back before he asked where I was going.

"Strider's," I grumbled back.

"Oh, are you two still dating?" he asked as he tried to clean his glasses on his parka.

I nodded a bit, still walking.

"Guess I owe Jade ten bucks."

That made me stop in my tracks. I turned my head all the way to look at Egbert, and growled out, "You and Jade made a bet on how long our relationship would last?"

He nodded, expression telling me he had no idea why that was upsetting.

Luckily for him, I was freezing and didn't have time to put up with his shit. Instead, I settled for mumbling, "Asshole."

John called as I moved onto the next house, "Bye Karkat!"

I shoved my gloved hand out behind me and flipped him off.

About ten more minutes passed before I was facing the Striders' door. After a deep breath (or sixteen), I mustered up the courage to ring the doorbell. And of fucking course his doorbell was rigged to play presumably "ironic" opera music.

The last man I wanted to answer the door answered the door, which only makes sense, because life just hates me that fucking much. Dirk "Bro" Strider stared down at me, strange scalene triangle sunglasses blocking his eyes from view.

"Hi," I finally managed, squeaking a bit.

He stayed still for about another thirty seconds before turning and yelling into the house, "Dave! You forgot to mention your boyfriend's the size of a third grader and just as cute!"

"BRO!" rang through the house. It was Dave, and he sounded fucking panicked. I was fucking panicked too; I didn't know how to properly respond to the third grader comment because I _really_ didn't want to scream at a man with a sword hanging from his belt.

Bro chuckled, moving out of sight only a moment before Dave appeared. I'd never seen him look so flustered, and to be honest, it was kind of adorable in a strange, Strider way.

He was wearing a different pair of shades today; they were those shitty hipster/nerd kind, and I thought they looked out of place on him. Still, from behind the thick scarf I was wearing, I could feel myself smiling, though I wasn't sure exactly why.

Dave's poker face returned as he noted, "You hate the snow."

"Really?" I responded. "I must've forgotten. Thank you for reminding me, Your Thoughtfulness."

"What are you doing here?"

For a second I panicked, thinking he must not have want to see me, and maybe that was why we hadn't been out in so long. "I can go," I squeaked, turning around.

His hand caught my shoulder and pulled me back as he said, "Don't leave."

For some reason I'll never understand, my stupid heart fluttered.

I hated when it did that. That shit hurts, and it's embarrassing. Still, I muttered back, "Okay."

He asked awkwardly, "Do you want to come inside?"

I shook my head ferociously. I never wanted to see Bro Strider again, for as long as I lived, because Jesus Christ that man is intimidating. I told Dave, a little nervously, "I was thinking we could... go play in the snow...?"

**Be Dave Strider**

I had the best boyfriend ever.

I nodded excitedly, rushing to the spot on the floor where I knew my snow stuff was. Some people thought my messy house was unorganized, but Bro and I knew where everything was. Still, I wanted the place to be a bit cleaner if Karkat came in.

As soon as I stepped out the door in my fluorescent, purely ironic snowsuit from the 90's, Karkat, who'd moved off the porch, hit me in the stomach with a snowball. I eyed him up from under my shades, my expression saying "game on." I quickly reached down and created my own snowball before hurling it at him. For a kid who hated the snow, he was pretty good at this game, and had managed to make another ball while dodging mine.

I dropped to the the ground as Karkat sent a projectile my way, cupping my hands around the snow by my knees.

Karkat and I each sent a snowball flying.

Mine missed.

His didn't.

I had a feeling he meant to hit the shitty hipsters shades I got at Claire's on purpose. The cheap plastic broke in half immediately, falling off my face.

Shit.

**Be Karkat Vantas**

I tilted my head in confusion as Strider's lame glasses fell off to reveal his closed eyes. "What the hell are you doing?" I asked.

Instead of answering, Strider turned around and headed inside. Worried that he'd actually _liked_ those things, I did the only rational thing I could in this situation: I jumped on his back.

Arms around his shoulders, and legs around his midsection, I growled, "Where the hell are you going?"

"Back off, Vantas," he responded before ripping me off of him and slamming me into the thankfully thick snow at his feet.

He'd gotten all of two more steps before I'd gathered my senses. I quickly shot forward, tackling his knees. Unprepared, he fell sideways into the snow, and I took the opportunity to clamber on top of him, holding down his wrists and straddling his hips.

Shut up, you perverts.

His eyes were still closed, which pissed me off. "Why the hell won't you look at me?" I growled. "I'm sorry about your glasses, but-"

"Shut up, Vantas."

I scowled, "You baby-eating assmunch. You can't possibly be so pissed about a broken pair of dumb glasses."

**Karkat: Open his eyes for him, dickweed**

I resent that.

Either way, I still brought my hands to his eyelids, attempting to gently force one open. With his now free hand, he quickly snatched mine away.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" I yelled, beyond frustrated. "Why won't you look at me?"

**Be Dave**

**Dave: Give up because he won't**

Someone's gotta be the bigger man.

I slowly opened my eyes, and -

Shit.

**Be Karkat  
Karkat: Don't freak out.**

It was only then that I remembered I'd never seen Dave without his glasses.

**Karkat: And now you know why. Do something!**

"Your eyes," I mumbled.

He groaned, closing them again and turning his head.

I wasn't really thinking clearly when I lowered myself onto him and reached to turn his head back. "I like them."

He groaned again. "You _hate_ red."

My heart was beating fast as I shook my head, not exactly caring that he couldn't see me. "I hate _obnoxious _red, like my brother's stuff. _You're_ still fucking obnoxious, but your eyes aren't."

**Karkat: Be interrupted.**

WHY.

Bro Strider opened the front door and just started chuckling like a creep, hugging a bulbous stuffed animal to his chest. "No glasses, Dave?" he called.

"BRO!" Dave shrieked (he did, don't listen to what he says). I quickly leaped off of him as he got to his feet. "What the hell?!"

"Doesn't look good, man," Bro responded, smirking the same aggravating smirk his brother sometimes wore. "Practically pedophilia."

Dave frantically pointed at me. "He's in my grade!"

Bro looked impressed and turned his gaze down towards me. "Did you get moved up a few grades?"

I groaned and buried my face into my knees.

Dave ran at his brother and pushed him back inside, slamming the door.

"I'm sorry," the younger Strider quietly apologized once he was sure Bro was gone.

I looked up at him, ten feet away guarding the door, red eyes so alien to me, as I said, "You shouldn't wear your glasses so much."

It was strange knowing for sure that he was looking at me, but like normal, he waited for me to continue instead of replying.

"For Kankri's sake, if anything," I continued, blushing a bit. "You might be able to convince me that red isn't so bad."

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading :)**


	4. Dinner

**Be Karkat Vantas**

Holy shit I was bored. Even_ I_ had my limits when it came to how long I could watch romcoms. Six hours was bordering on ridiculous. Still, it was a lot better than whatever was happening downstairs.

Kankri, my annoying older brother, had some friends over, and I couldn't stand any of them. Except Meenah, I guess, but it was awkward being around her because I'd had a crush on her a few years ago. Latula was okay, too, but I'd also had a thing with her little sister in 7th grade. Okay, I didn't really dislike any of them, I just hated being around my brother.

I vaguely heard the doorbell ring, but ignored it. As bored as I was, _My Big Fat Greek Wedding _was a lot more intriguing than another one of Kankri's friends.

"YO, KARKAT!" Meenah called up a moment later. "Some hottie named Dave is here for ya!"

SHIT.

**Be Dave Strider**

I knew Karkat wanted to go on a real date. I also knew Karkat was spending the day away from his laptop, as I'd spent about half an hour rambling into Pesterchum, waiting for a reply. Eventually I just gave up and drove over to his house, planning on taking him to an ironically fancy restaurant, like out of one of his romcoms. I wasn't prepared for a bunch of upperclassmen hanging around in his living room. I could spot Karkat's brother immediately; they looked exactly alike, except for the wardrobe.

"Who are you?" Kankri asked, eyes narrowed and a single eyebrow arched. I could already tell we weren't going to get along.

"Your brother's boyfriend," I responded, poker face on.

The room, complete with the ghetto girl who'd greeted me, a cat-girl, a mime-juggalo, a tatted chick, plus a skater girl and her helmeted boyfriend, stared at me, a little shocked. After only a few seconds of stony silence, Karkat came barreling down the stairs and then at me, shoving me out the door and slamming it behind him.

"PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T TALK!" he yelled, oddly frantic.

Raising an eyebrow, I responded, "I said-"

Kankri opened the front door, saying, "Karkat, I'm deeply ashamed of you for not informing me sooner about-"

"YOU TOLD HIM?!" Karkat screamed at me.

"Yes," Elder Vantas answered, "and he was right to do so. You have once again decided to not share important information with me, and it's greatly troubling and a bit disheartening that you would consciously choose to do so. And, no offense intended, but your choice in . . . _partners_ is also a bit worrying, and I-"

"TRIGGERED!" Karkat shouted like a madman. "I'M TRIGGERED! YOU'VE TRIGGERED ME! YOU'VE TRIGGERED AND SHOT ME!"

And with that nonsense, Karkat grabbed my wrist and started running. We didn't stop until we were two streets away, in front of Rose's house.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Kankri," Karkat huffed out, doubled over. "Major asshole. Best avoided."

"Huh," I responded, looking back in the direction we came. "So we both have assholes who won't shut up for brothers."

"He doesn't know," Karkat said, looking up at me. "He doesn't know that we're dating or that I'm gay."

I chuckled. "Well, he does now."

Karkat groaned, collapsing into a melodramatic ball in the snow-covered grass. "I will never hear the end of this, y'know."

"How 'bout," I responded, kneeling down, "to repay you, I take you out for dinner at Vocelli's?"

He peaked his head out, asking, "You have money for Vocelli's?"

I shrugged. "Been saving up. Doing extra chores and stuff for Bro."

Karkat sat up, apparently not minding that his ass was frozen in the snow. "We're going on a date?"

I nodded.

"Okay," he mumbled quietly after a moment. "I won't painfully castrate you for telling my brother then, you fucking thoughtful dickweed."

I allowed myself to smirk before sticking my hand out to help him up.

* * *

**Be Karkat**

Three hours later, we found ourselves in a dingy joint called Patty's. The dull paint on the walls was chipping, the nasty tile floor was crawling with ants, and the table was covered in yesterday's special sauce.

"I'm sorry," Dave muttered, looking down at his lap from across the table.

Strider had managed to make several wrong turns and refused to ask to me or a stranger for help. It led to a giant screaming match in the car, where I pulled out all of my creative names and won. Still, this shithole was where we ended up.

"About what?" I prompted, simultaneously bitter and pompous.

He huffed, "About getting us lost and ending up in this shithole."

Our waitress, who looked vaguely familiar to me, came up and asked what we'd like to drink in a strange accent. We both ordered Cokes, and as she walked away, we heard her mumbling things in some Asian language.

"So," Strider said, holding his menu up, "how's the chicken sound?"

This was barely real food. Their entrees consisted of soggy-looking hamburgers, greasy chicken fingers, burnt pizza, over-cooked spaghetti, and some macaroni that . . . actually didn't look half-bad.

"Terrible," I responded. "The macaroni looks good, though."

"And by 'good'," he corrected, "you mean 'like food'."

The woman came back with our Cokes, and as she asked if we needed more time, I saw her name tag.

"Damara?" I asked.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I know you?"

I was about to tell her I was Kankri's brother before Dave broke in and ordered two "mac n' cheeses." She nodded and left, muttering slightly louder than before.

"What was that about?" I hissed. "She's one of Kankri's friends!"

"And she's one of Bro's exes," Dave replied after taking a sip of his drink.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "How old is your brother?"

"What really counts is that he had no idea how old Megido was."

I rolled my eyes. "Either way, it's not like I was telling her who _you_ were."

"You really don't know anything about her, do you?"

I shrugged and said defensively, "I don't care about Kankri's friends."

Dave leaned across the table and waited for me to do the same, When I was close enough, he told me, "She's gotten into some weird shit. We're pretty sure she killed a dude or two."

I gave him a disbelieving look.

"Just believe me on this one and keep your head down when she comes over."

I sighed at his ridiculousness, but told him I would.

After Damara took away our yellowed, cheesy plates, Dave apologized again.

I shrugged and told him honestly, "I don't really care where we go."

Strider raised an eyebrow. "You don't?"

"Well, I mean, for as much as you fucked this up," I responded, blushing slightly, "we did end up at a place with some fucking terrific macaroni and cheese."

"You meant something else," Dave said, smirking slightly. "Something sappier."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No."

"Yeah."

"Fine," I surrendered, scowling as he smirked. "I don't really care where we go . . . as long as we go together."

**Be Dave**

He was rewarded with lots of sloppy makeouts in the car.


End file.
